


Give Me a Smile

by cheesethesecond



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Everyone Thinks Bones is Pretty, Gen, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Triumvirate Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesethesecond/pseuds/cheesethesecond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He hadn’t thought twice when Jim mentioned, offhand, how he’d made 'a few suggestions' to the photographer. He hadn’t even blinked when they asked him to show up in his formal greys. He should’ve goddamn known better."</p>
<p>Bones gets his picture taken for Starfleet recruitment posters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me a Smile

**Author's Note:**

> *stumbles into the Trek fandom two years late with Starbucks*
> 
> This is pure silliness based on kaztial-does-art's [Triumvirate Recruitment Posters](http://kaztial-does-art.tumblr.com/post/113903074041/triumvirate-recruitment-posters) on Tumblr, which are beautiful and awesome and conjured up all kinds of shenanigans in my head. Basically just posting this so I can begin documenting my rapid and unexplained descent into the madness of this fandom.

Leonard should’ve known better. 

He had, in hindsight, been lulled into a false sense of security by the rest of the crew. He’d seen  _t_ _heir_  finished products – Uhura at her station, fingers up to her earpiece; Dr. Marcus, PADD in hand, forehead furrowed in concentration; Sulu and Chekov at the helm, staring, determined, out into the black – and hummed his approval at each. Oh sure, he’d groused his fair share about being turned into a propaganda piece, but the posters were well-done, and showcased their strengths. As far as slogans went,  _Boldly Go_ had a nice ring to it. And Starfleet really did need the boost in recruitment after all that had happened, after all they’d lost. He could do his part. He could wave a few instruments around and let them snap some photos for the greater good.

He hadn’t thought twice when Jim mentioned, offhand, how he’d made “a few suggestions” to the photographer. 

He hadn’t even blinked when they asked him to show up in his formal greys. 

He should’ve goddamn  _known_  better.

As soon as Leonard pushed the door open, he was enveloped in a cloud of fog and nearly blinded by the incessant flashing of a camera. There was music playing, something clubby and bass-heavy that immediately started thrumming in his sinuses. Jim was sitting in front of a massive projection of stars, gazing off into the distance with a pensive look on his face, his hand resting, gently and ever-so-deliberately, against his chin. A chirpy photographer barraged Jim with a steady stream of praise – “Beautiful, Captain. Right there, yes. Perfect.  _Perfect_. You’re a natural, Kirk.  _Yes_.” Leonard could see Jim fighting a smile.

“Doctor.” Spock stepped up beside him, hands behind his back.

“What the  _hell_  is this?” Leonard asked, motioning towards the teenaged intern harnessing an unwieldy fog machine near Jim’s feet.

“The photography session for our Starfleet recruitment posters.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Right. Well, I’m fairly certain I didn’t see them smoking out engineering for Scotty’s shoot.”

“Our photographer claims that, although it is possible to add fog effects once the process is complete, something is lacking in the finished product when there is no physical— ”

“Damn it, I’m not talking about the fog effects, I’m talking about  _this_! All of this!”

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard’s wild gesturing. “The admiralty thought it appropriate, given our command positions, as well as public familiarity with our roles in the  _Narada_  Engagement and increased visibility after the  _Vengeance_  incident, that our posters might be more effective if they…stood out, in some way, from the others. The captain then took it upon himself to decide exactly which way that should be.”

Leonard scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I’ll bet he did. And you’re just fine and dandy with it, are you?”

Spock tilted his head slightly. “I will admit, this is not precisely what I had anticipated.”

“Bones!” Jim sprung up from his seat and loped over to them while the photographer swiped through the images on her camera. He slapped his hands to Leonard’s shoulders and shook him in greeting. “Looking good! Spock, you’re up.”

“Yes, Captain.” Spock clenched his jaw and walked to the chair as solemn as a man marching to his death.

“You could’ve at least warned me about this goddamn dog and pony show,” Leonard said, tugging at his collar. “I thought I’d put on a blue shirt, poke at a few fake patients, and be done with it.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bones, this is way more fun!” Jim said, patting him on the back. “You’re gonna do great.”

“I’m a doctor, Jim, not a supermodel. We can’t all just go around batting our pretty baby blues.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Jim smirked. Leonard punched him in the arm. “Ow!”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I! Bones, you’re CMO of Starfleet’s flagship. You helped save my life. You helped save  _millions_  of lives. You deserve some recognition.”

Leonard’s stomach did a familiar plummet at Jim’s casual mention of…well, of the thing they didn’t really talk about, but he swallowed and tried to ignore it. This wasn’t the time. “Maybe for doing my job. Not for getting all gussied up and pulling ridiculous faces in some stiff uniform.”

“Right, because a picture of you jabbing a hypo into some poor bastard’s neck will have them  _lining_  up outside the recruitment office.”

“This is a terrible idea, Jim,” Leonard said, pulling at his sleeves. “I’m not cut out for this sort of pageantry, and there’s  _no_  way Spock is— ”

“I believe it is your turn, Doctor.”

Leonard nearly jumped out of his skin as Spock slid in beside them; he swore the pointy-eared jackass did that on purpose. “That bad, huh?”

“On the contrary. It took merely three attempts to produce an adequate image.”

Leonard gaped. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“I can assure you I am not.”

“Then how— ”

“I simply stood at attention and cleared my mind, as I am accustomed to doing in uncomfortable, yet nonthreatening, situations.”

“Fantastic. Because that works so well for the rest of us.” Leonard dragged a hand over his face and pointed an accusing finger at Jim, who was biting his lip to stifle a laugh. “Not a word. Not one word out of you, or I’ll— ”

“Doctor McCoy!” the photographer called, sing-song. “You’re up!”

“God help me.”

“Hey, you got this,” Jim said, giving him another shake. “Just turn on the old McCoy charm.”

Leonard growled.

“That’s the stuff.”

“Have a seat,” the photographer said cheerfully, motioning to the chair and holding the camera up to her face.

Leonard took a seat, cleared his throat, and held himself at attention.

“Now relax.”

Well, so much for the Vulcan strategy. Leonard rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck out, blinked rapidly at the first flash.

“Can you relax your face a little?”

He moved his tongue around uselessly, scrunched up his nose, tried to contort his facial muscles into something resembling  _relaxed_. The photographer’s smile faded.

“Okay, let’s try something else. Can you give me a smile?”

Leonard bared his teeth. The photographer actually flinched.

“Alright. Okay. Let’s…uh. Give me a minute. Just relax. I’ll just be a minute.”

Leonard sighed, bowed his head, scratched absently at the back of his neck.

“So,” Jim said, strolling over with his hands in his pockets. He had the wherewithal to look a touch sympathetic. “You weren’t wrong.”

“No, I’ve been hiding a secret modeling career from you all these years.” Leonard dropped his head into his hands. “Sorry. I’m fucking this all up.”

“Hey, no.” Jim tugged at his elbow and lifted him up off the chair. “I should’ve warned you. At least given you some time to prepare.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m sure that would’ve helped a whole heap.”

“You just gotta loosen up.” Jim squeezed his shoulders and ran his hands down Leonard’s arms. “Look, you already know you’re stunning.”

“Jim,” Leonard said, exasperated, though the tips of his ears were heating up.

“You don’t even have to  _do_  anything, Bones. Don’t try. Just  _be_.”

“I could _be_  a whole hell of a lot easier with a hypo in my hand.”

“No, no, no,” Jim said, backing away. “Absolutely not. No one give this man a hypo.”

Leonard shrugged. “Can’t promise anything, then.” He felt his lips quirk, despite himself.

“See?” Jim smiled. “Like  _that_.”

“Let’s try again,” the photographer said, and Leonard’s shoulders started to creep back up around his ears.

“Go get ‘em,” Jim said, winking, before he swatted Leonard’s hat off his head and sprinted away.

“Christ, Jim, you infant,” Leonard muttered as he reached down for his hat. He stood and glared in Jim’s general direction – he couldn’t tell where exactly, the lights were so _bright_  – and put the hat back on with an irritated flick, straightened it out with both hands, closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose and tried not to wince away from the flash behind his eyelids, tried to breathe out the tension. “Alright. Where do you want me?”

“Actually,” the photographer said, a little stunned, “I think we got it.”

“What?”

“I think we got it. I think we got the shot.”

“Lemme see, lemme see.” Jim jogged up behind her, Spock trailing a few paces behind, and peered over her shoulder at the camera. His whole face lit up. “Wow, Bones.  _Wow_.”

“We didn’t get the fog machine on, but that’s nothing we can’t add in post. This is it. This is the one.”

“Seriously?” Leonard asked.

Jim waved him over. “Come see.”

The photo was…not bad, actually, Leonard had to admit. The camera had caught him in the act of readjusting his hat, and the motion somehow made him look natural, fluid in a way he certainly didn’t feel. He was wearing a slightly pinched expression, but the flush of color high on his cheeks from Jim’s teasing more than made up for it. He looked good. Sure of himself. Like he belonged in the uniform. Like a Starfleet officer. “Huh.”

“ _Huh_?” Jim said, wide-eyed. “Really? That’s it?”

“I guess it’s alright.”

Jim tossed his head back and laughed. “Bones, there’s gonna be a whole generation of future med students hanging this poster above their beds.”

Leonard felt his neck starting to burn again. “Oh hush, kid.”

“The captain’s comments, while colorful, are not misplaced,” Spock said. “I believe this photograph will have the desired impact on Starfleet recruiting efforts.”

Jim raised his eyebrows and whistled.

Leonard felt like maybe his whole face had caught fire. “Well, on that note, I’ll be getting as far away from this circus as humanly possible.”

“Hey, wait! Let’s do a group shot!”

Leonard flipped Jim the bird. If he took off running as soon as he was out the door, that was nobody’s business but his own.

**Author's Note:**

> You can read this [on Tumblr](http://cheesethesecond.tumblr.com/post/125208491963/ficlet-inspired-by-kaztial-does-arts), too, and come say hi!


End file.
